Levana's Asylum for Supernaturals
by sondering
Summary: Levana devises an asylum for mentally ill people, more specifically, supernaturals she's gunning for. What happens when she shelters her lunatic step-daughter, a gang member, a rich boy, a wanted criminal, hacker, doctor, and cook under her name? Why does she want all of them? Most of all, why does a new patient named Cinder become her biggest threat to overthrow her asylum?
1. Chapter 1

She did not like it here.

For one, the walls were constantly bleeding. As if the asylum's scenery wasn't enough with its dreadful, gloomy walls and its horrific screams, Winter would be the first one to tell you that it gets worse. She had witnessed it her very first time being thrown into these dungeons, into _this_ cage. But earlier along her residence in the asylum, she'd learn to realize that the walls were in fact bleeding.

But no one else saw.

How could no one else see it?

The walls were coated with crimson blood as thick as gold. It crept along the hallways like water flowing from a flood. Winter felt a trickle of blood drop on her shoulder, and she shut her eyes as hard as possible, trying and _hoping_ she wouldn't make a scene. Because she always would. And she'd always get thrown into those yellow walls, or worst, that electric chair. And then he would have to rescue her like a knight would to his princess.

Like an over-affectionate doctor would to a mentally insane person.

For two, the patients weren't... _patients_. No, this was no home. It was a prison, and they were held prisoners. it was a hellhole here under Levana's thumb. Winter couldn't wrap her head or try to understand how she could endure twenty four hours of the day with hearing their screams, shrieks, hollers, pleadings. Especially the fairly new people who would come to learn that their residence would be more worse than a jail. They were treated below animals because they were different, and Winter would bet a million dollars that a nursing home would treat them better than this psychiatric ward. Winter thought it was absurd how no one else outside these hospital walls that was full of death, harm, and blood could possibly pass this up, could possibly have no idea what's going on inside.

That was another thing; her step-mother, Levana, was in charge of the asylum.

Levana never treated Winter right, and she had always dreamt of having her own asylum to Winter's late father, Evret. Why she wanted one? The world may never know. Winter only knew that her dreams worked out, and how her father was murdered away from the picture. Evret was the one who set Levana back from building an asylum - he didn't agree with whatever reason Levana decided to build it. Eventually, another one of her dreams came true, at least to Winter it did. The dream to see her step-daughter's beautiful face mutilated because of her own petty jealousy of the then thirteen-year-old Winter. Oh, how Winter dreaded the gawks sent her way. She was disgusted at the sly glances and stares some of the men would give her because of her figure. She hated hated _hated_ it. She hated how anything could accentuate her enviable curves, including a hospital dress. Winter also thought that Levana had a desired dream to throw Winter into her concoction and nightmare of an asylum, and the one miraculous chance she got, she took it.

The only thing that made it worthwhile was one of the doctors of the asylum, her best friend, her pitiful crush.

Jacin.

He was always there from day one. Their fathers became best friends in college, and so did they growing up. Over the years, as clichė as it came, Winter started to fall in love with Jacin when she was thirteen and he fifteen. At least she finally could put together the feelings she's always had for him.

But even that was completely tarnished the day Levana decided to inflict harm to her face. To leave her with three faded scars shaped like teardrops right under her right eye. It was wiped away the minute Winter first had her hallucination and started to go crazy and crazier in this asylum. And Winter only felt even more embarrassed at causing her unintentional scenes, being whipped by Levana, the _condition_ of not only her mind, but her abode. While Jacin, on the other hand, had a life. Was perfectly normal. Could possibly start a family. Had a job. Had a degree. Yet, he dropped it all for her. That was the worst part of it all. He threw away _his_ dream for _her_ well-being. While Winter was thankful of him to do so, she was more embarrassed and guilty of herself for him to have done something like that for her. His choice wasn't something best friends were required to do in the handbook. It was simply his choice. She still couldn't believe it, couldn't stand it.

He dropped it all for her.

* * *

 **I know I'm all over the place, and I promise you all that the next chapter of the Rampion Boyz will be up during the weekend, but this was just an idea I had in my head. I have the whole plot line planned out a little bit to continue it as a story, and all the tic characters are the main characters. Not just one couple as the lead and the others secondary, same thing with individual characters. Of course, I won't put my undivided attention to this story until I've fully completed - or halfway completed - the Rampion Boyz. But I think I'll be pushing back The 1960's until February, which is Black History Month. This story will most likely be my second story I'll fully continue. Anyways, what do you guys think? Any feedback would help and would be great! It'd really make my day :). TLC characters in an asylum? Say whatttttt? Please leave any overall reviews and construction criticism! Also, follow and favorite if you like this first chapter so far!**

 **QOTD: who is your favorite girl tic character? Mines is Winter :).**


	2. Chapter 2

Cress was hesitant this time around.

Sure, hacking was what she did and what she'd been doing all her life. Heck, it was probably who she was _defined_ as, if not the slow girl. To this day, Cress never really understood why her peers who were just as "slow" with an added crazy as she was could possibly find it in them to call her that as a slur. Cress hated that word. _Slow_. Did that mean everyone else was fast? She'd been diagnosed as autistic right before she'd been sent to this asylum, right before they knew she was different. Special, yet slow.

She really hated those words. Different and special. Or maybe it was the sympathetic and pitying tone that came with those descriptions that irked her, that made her squirm.

Then again, her fellow peers were not innocent or naive to the world around them, they were simply indifferent. Indifferent to the fact that this would be the death of them. Indifferent to the fact that their graveyards would be on the front, uneven grass that was practically dead now, making the place more eerie with dozens of graveyards next to each other. Some were even stacked on top of the each other that was how much the psychiatric ward lost in a year. Cress overheard Mistress Sybil talking about a certain plague roaming around town that eventually bit and spit out the patients that already had a lower hand in this world, against this world.

Usually Mistress Sybil would assign Cress to look up people who could potentially be future patients here at Artemisia Asylum, and she'd usually find their IP address, identification chip, etc. in a matter of minutes. Cress's main task for today was to look up a girl by the name of Linh Cinder, and when she did, the results slightly shocked her. It was the same girl from last week who Mistress Sybil requested for her to look up, except only that time around, Cress had failed to do so, not because of her normal distraction with Little Cress, a program she made when she felt quite lonely, but because she simply could not get _any_ valid information for the girl. The results last week said she lived in Europe as a child and was caught in a car crash when she was younger. Nothing more, nothing less. Not who her parents or guardian was, where she currently lived, or what age she was.

Just nothing.

It was like she was a ghost, one that Cress had to chase. Cress started to pretend like she was one of those people from Ghost Hunters or maybe even a ghostbuster. The sky wasn't the limit for Cress's imagination - it was the dark and unwelcoming doors and remorseful stench of the asylum that did.

Scrolling through Linh Cinder's portfolio, Cress couldn't help but to once again think about _why_ she was doing this for the second time. Besides her failure the first time, and how she was on punishment and to be sent to those dreary and faded yellow claustrophobic walls, Cress knew there was something more to Linh Cinder. Mistress Sybil had a certain urgency in her voice, one that meant Cress must find her at this very second. Usually Mistress Sybil would demand a name in such a calm and nonchalant way, but this time around Cress was fearful. Mistress Sybil said it with even more of an authorative and dark voice. She couldn't help but think that Levana's urgency to find this Linh Cinder was even more crucial and serious.

Nonetheless, with a few clicks and searches, Cress could unlock all there was to know about Linh Cinder. She currently resided in a lofty apartment with her step-mom, Adri along with two other step-sisters named Peony and Pearl. Apparently, Peony died of letumosis, and Adri was turning Cinder in for the same thing, only if she had it. This time around, unlike the other times she was commissioned into finding patients, Cress felt guilty. This girl seemed like she was in her age group, possibly sixteen? Cress usually had the composure of a servant receiving orders to her master without question, but she felt like she was betraying Linh Cinder the minute Mistress Sybil declared her name. The girl she barely knew. The girl she didn't know at all.

She felt even more burdened when she saw the infamous Cinder dragged into Artemisia Asylum the very next week.

* * *

 **Please review, follow, and favorite this story if you liked it so far! I know I've only explored the pov's of Winter and Jacin, so I would like some feedback on how I did with Cress. Was she a little OC, OOC, or her normal self portrayed in the Lunar Chronicles?**


	3. Chapter 3

Wolf was filled with dread yet an unpleasant ecstasy.

Today was Fight Friday.

Only the tough of the tough could fight against each other; not only did this resemble who were the biggest threats of the asylum, but who would always get their way, who you should be scared of, who were Levana's go-to weapons. Not only did this benefit off of Levana, but guys like Wolf helped Levana in her discreet message of "don't think about escaping the asylum, because you can't escape them." And through them, her, ultimately. Aside from her having her top notch security guards who still maintained their bio-electricity at an advanced level, which was already a hard bargain for any patient in the asylum to go up against, having an added armed accessory strictly as a weapon completed her vicious army. They all came in packs, and on Fight Friday, those packs would compete against each other for "entertainment." But in all actuality, the real entertainment lied within the horrified faces of the patients and their widened, frightened eyes. At them. At _him_.

Not only was he a threat and different to society, but he was a threat to his own people. The people, who all had their own mental illnesses. The people, whose once strengthened bio-electricity was deteriorating day by day, less they use it against each other. Never the wolf pack. Never the security guards. Never Sybil Mira. And most of all, _never_ Levana.

Once, a foolish middle aged man made the mistake of crossing Levana, figuring he had enough of Artemisia Asylum. By not only trying to escape but trying to brainwash Levana, he was made an example of. Levana made him plunge a kitchen knife into his heart - very slowly and gradually, making it more of a torture before his hand twisted the knife within his guts and made him fall onto the hardwood ground. Levana made sure to do it publicly too, letting her beautiful step-daughter have a clear sighting of the execution. Whimpers could be heard from the man's mouth, along with a trickle of blood before his head went limp, and with that, his dark eyes wide open in shock. Levana did not stop there. No, she took the knife sharply out of the man's guts and slit his throat with such ease, his blood already on the knife creating more blood from his neck, it was disturbing. That was when Levana's message could be heard, that whoever was trapped within the asylum's walls would never get out - not under her watch. And that you would die if you tried. Her mission was successful, because ever since that incident, the people were more fearful of her. No one tried anything. Torture their peers all they want, but Levana, Mistress Sybil, the wolf pack, and the security guards were off limits.

Wolf was one of the best out of his pack, so of course it was his turn next against an alpha named Mahli.

Wolf licked his lips, knowing he would be easy to defeat. He looked lanky despite his abnormal size compared to other humans, but he was half-wolf under Levana's monstrosity of a creation, and he was bait compared to a guy like Wolf. He was built like a weapon used for the army, part human and part wolf-like. But he was as soft and sweet as a child deep down, yet no one cared to explore that. No one _could_ explore that, looking at his exterior and his animalistic behavior amongst them.

Wolf never liked fighting, but he begrudgingly - and eventually - got into it amidst the fight, strictly focused on winning. This time around, he felt like his mind wouldn't be into it at all. Not this Friday. That girl was here. The girl that was always here on Tuesday's and Thursday's, and sometimes Friday's to check on her grandma. Grand-mėre, she would call her. She was also the asylum's cook, but her shift would be over before Fight Friday would start, if she even visited her grandma this late on Fight Friday. Michelle Benoit was the old woman's name, and she was described as crazy amongst the asylum. In fact, she'd been diagnosed bipolar.

Regardless, Wolf kind of liked this girl. He kind of admired her from afar. But he didn't want her to see this side of him, regardless of the side she thought she knew or the one she made up about him. No, it would only confirm her negative assertion.

But nonetheless, being the forcefully faithful soldier he was, he competed against this kid.

Mahli came for the kill, striking first. Or at least, trying to strike first. Wolf was already on high alert and had incredible reflexes, despite putting his focus on something completely different than demolishing him. He didn't want to defeat the kid, that was all he was really, a kid. Mahli looked no more than seventeen. Wolf was 23. Mahli looked like he just made the cut for six feet, Wolf was 6'4. He did not stand a chance.

Wolf decided to get the agony over with, and quickly threw a punch to the boy's jaw. Immediately, Mahli winced in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and reaching for his wounded jaw. That was another gateway for Wolf, so he took it. He proceeded in kicking him in the shin, making Mahli groan in pain. There were a mixture of cheers from the pack and pleas from their audience, and Wolf could have sworn he saw a sluggish figure stand up from the seated audience and walk towards their spot on their small, black platform. Soon enough, Wolf kept throwing punches and kicks before picking Mahli up over his shoulder and body slamming him down onto the solid, white floor.

Wolf had won.

But he felt remorse.

During that last punch, he felt a slight tug on his forearm behind him.

He may have accidentally shrugged that hand off like a person would to a measly fly.

Not even having the time to feel guilty about another of his victim's laid out on the floor with blood coated on their faces, he turned around to see a familiar figure hurdled on the floor.

It was Michelle Benoit.

* * *

 **Ooooh, slight cliffhanger? Hoped you all liked this chapter! Also, thank you for the nice reviews on the last chapter, I read them continuously with a smile on my face. Please review, favorite, and follow this story if you like it so far! I should be updating the Rampion Boyz tomorrow!**

 **p.s. Mahli's name means "weak" or "sick"in Hebrew.**


	4. Chapter 4

"What's _wrong_ with you?"

Scarlet wasted no time in chastising the man before she rushed to her grand-mėre's aid.

Scarlet knew that Wolf was at a loss of words, standing frozen in place. She felt him watch the back of her retreating form to help her grand-mėre stand.

Slowly but surely, her grand-mėre was on her own two feet, red as the tomatoes Scarlet would make at the farm. At _their_ farm.

God, how she missed that farm. If it wasn't for those earthens who just wanted a reason to get rid of her grand-mėre because of her craziness, they would be back in France. Not here on _Luna_.

Sure, Michelle Benoit had some high points and low points. But didn't everyone? No one really liked Michelle back at home because she was viewed as a crazy woman because of it. And once they could get their hands on the only piece of evidence they had to confirm she had something to do with a Lunar, they turned her in. On earth, Lunars were widely feared, and it was illegal for Lunars to use their unnatural gifts. Of course, you have those who intentionally break the rule as a rebellious act, in which they would get thrown in jail. Even the death sentence. You have those who get caught practicing it regardless if it was on themselves or to another Lunar. But then you had those that showed signs of not only a bit of craziness like Scarlet's grand-mėre, but severe cases of manipulating an earthen. Or, cases where Lunars did not use their gift at all, causing them to go insane. Some could hide it while others simply could not. That was when you were recruited to Artemisia Asylum on Luna, somewhere far worse than a prison or a jail or a death sentence.

Once Scarlet felt her grand-mėre could stand upright, she looked back up at him. Glaring.

From the corner of her eye, she could see her grand-mėre glare at him too.

This only made him more uncomfortable, which was a mission accomplished for them.

He swallowed his spit, Scarlet could see his Adam's apple bobbing up then down. "I'm-I'm-" his voice was quiet and timid.

"I don't want to hear it!" Michelle Benoit yelled, suddenly loosening from her granddaughter's grip. She started jabbing her index finger toward his face.

The man grew more uncomfortable, more scared. Scarlet never saw this emotion plastered on any of their faces before. Them, as in the wolf pack. For a second, Scarlet thought he was using his Lunar gift to make people feel sympathy towards him. But that was nearly impossible to do in this place. Besides, he could've easily controlled any one of their thoughts minutes ago, and the wolf packs' Lunar gift were their sharp, ginormous fangs. Their hideous and devious smiles. Their hungry eyes.

Scarlet had an epiphany. This man was not like the others. Not like the ones who could cave into their animalistic desires anytime of the day, who would be prideful in partaking these types of disgusting events, who would instill fear in others without a second thought or a pot for the piss, who would act like the heathens that they were turned into. No, just like how this man's body was structured to replicate a wolf, his human emotions still deemed him as a man. A man who seemed broken and wanted out.

The cause of his frightened eyes was not her grand-mėre throwing insignificant punches at his already genetically modified body for retribution. It was his ego that was withering away second by second, as tainted as it already was. It withered away like a feather, but his body stood as stiff as a board. Amidst the cheering crowd in favor of a peer as weak as them defying against another peer of theirs as strong as him, his eyes screamed pain. They screamed help. That he was not their enemy, it was the woman who currently resided on the other side of the building that was their enemy. He was merely a pawn to her game, used as a weapon.

And he was looking straight at Scarlet.

Scarlet felt his green, sorrowful eyes turn towards her. She suddenly felt like she was in a trance, one that sympathized with him. Except, her self-conscious was still there and preserved, not violated.

For the first time in forever, maybe even ever, Scarlet brought herself to voice out her opinion towards her grand-mėre. She could not stand behind her on this. On her easily hot temper that ignited a fire when aroused from a small spark, on her act-first-think-later strong impulse and motto. These things she sadly inherited from her strong-willed grand-mėre herself. She used to think that it was a good thing, or even if it wasn't, it was acceptable. Because it was their way of coping with things that people should just get used to. But she was starting to realize that this notion was wrong. Especially cooped up in this asylum, it was dangerous. Miles and miles away from home, where people knew the fiery Michelle Benoit and her tough granddaughter. People kind of knew her here, but Scarlet could bet money that if it wasn't for anyone other than Wolf from the pack she tried doing this with, she'd stand no chance. She would get shown no mercy. She probably would have been eaten alive.

Scarlet shivered at the thought.

" _No_ , grand-mėre," Scarlet demanded. She tugged on her arms, pulling her away from him. Half of the audience booed at the sight. But Scarlet only awaited her grand-mėre's narrowed and furious eyes turn to disappointment at her. To question her, maybe even show show a hint of betrayal. They indeed did once her grand-mėre's gaze flickered towards her, but before she could comment or refute anything back, the doors of the asylum opened, jolting the audience and Scarlet herself.

It was Sybil Mira.

She always stood with an authoritative posture, daring anyone to cross her. Which no one would, because she was Levana's right hand woman.

"Come and welcome our newest patient."

* * *

 **OOoooooh, things just got real! I've decided to update all my stories this week because on my tumblr (which is alunarnamednia) I reached 200 followers! Special thanks to amazing author CkSwctWj for giving me more insight and ideas on this story, I appreciate it a lot! I might update the Rampion Boyz tonight or some other day this week, I promise! Life's been kind of hectic these past few weeks and I've had writer's block.**


	5. Chapter 5

Alas, she was finally here.

Levana had been searching far and wide and high and low for this girl. She'd been anxious and agitated waiting for this day to come.

Finally, the day bestowed upon her, and the girl was brought forth to her.

Levana knew she was the one. Not only did she fetch Sybil Mira to have the little tech girl research on her, but she'd been setting eyes on that area for a very long time. Levana originally did not plan to be in search for her long lost niece in New Bejing - especially with her withered hope that was about as long lost as the years she'd been kept hidden - but Levana had keen eyes set on Prince Kai.

Prince Kai of New Bejing was not only the sole heir of Emperor Rikan, but the son who would grant Levana what she admired and deserved the most: power. Power over the people, both earthen and lunar. Power of not only countries, but nations. Power, in which she'd lacked so much of. Power, in which she did not have enough of. One could never be satisfied enough when there's more territory to cover. So when Emperor Rikan had visited Luna in hopes of making alliances with the Prime Minister, but had fallen gravely ill, Levana knew something more than luck had struck her way. Needless to say, Artemisia Asylum was just around the corner from Artemisia's building and still in the heart of Artemisia. Levana welcomed the fallen emperor with open arms, almost not believing her incredible luck. The odds played ever in her favor in hopes to reach out to the royal family. But it just so happened that the royal family reached out to her.

While scheming a plan to lure Prince Kai and Emperor Rikan, Levana had found out through Sybil that there was an impeccable amount of cyborgs hidden in New Bejing. Levana drew two and two together, figuring that if the very same niece she had set in a fire over sixteen years ago was still alive, she'd been getting by with mechanic inhuman parts.

Scouring cyborg after cyborg in New Bejing through Cress, Levana had been sure she'd found the one.

The girl lived in an apartment with her stepmother and her two stepsisters. What stuck out the most to Levana was the fact that there had been no information about the stepfather, only the fact that he died years before and was the one who originally found Cinder in Europe. Cinder practically fit the description of her presumed dead niece also: sixteen years of age, cyborg parts, Asian background and eyes that smiled even when she wasn't smiling. She reminded Levana of her late sister, Channary, just a little.

 _That witch._ Just when Levana was in-denial that she'd found her niece, that maybe, just maybe, she'd truly been demolished in that fire, she'd found her.

If only she could've died in that fire. Why couldn't she get rid of that nuisance? For more than half her life, Levana had been scared of her eldest sister. Levana always had been the shadow of her, floating around in nothing but loneliness and forgetfulness. But miraculously, at age twenty five, Channary had fallen ill and soon died from regolith poisoning, leaving her only child behind. But what was Channary's only child to her was Levana's only paranoia. She'd often replayed thoughts like:

 _I already see Channary in her._

 _What if she starts to pick up some of her characteristics?_

 _What if she grows up just like her mother?_

No, Levana could not let that happen. Not under her watch. So what better way than to demolish the girl before she ever became a nuisance to her and her position in the lunar government? A threat to her once she grew up? Could the girl be as powerful and threatening as her sister once was? Levana thought there was no time to ponder of the what-ifs and move on with how she wanted her execution. Painful to watch and to execute, granted, but it'd be even more painful to watch her become a young lady and outlive her horrific mother.

Levana thought she'd gotten rid of the girl after the fire, but once the rumors started spreading that the girl was revived instead of actual pronounced dead, Levana's paranoia got the best of her. The rumors spreader like wildfire, and Logan Tanner, one of the scientists that worked along side of Dr. Dmitri Erland in pronouncing the young child dead, confessed on his deathbed that she was alive.

 _Selene was still alive._

Levana's world began to spin again with a sudden rush of paranoia, an unwanted fear in the pit of her stomach, and anxiety that would only leave her staying up each and every night. Insomnia was what they had diagnosed her with.

But alas, here she was now, having the final victory. This time, she would not let that girl slip under her hands so easily. She would make sure she'd be executed right in front of her eyes now and forever. Shocked was an understatement once Levana found her hidden in New Bejing.

Dearest Selene had been living under a different name for almost sixteen years now, and she went by the name of Linh Cinder.

* * *

 **I'm backkkk after my first week of winter break? I thought I'd immediately start writing but I've been having a little bit of writer's block lately. I'll try my best to see if I can update A Series of Unfortunate Events by today if not sometime this week, and I plan on working on another project sometime this year that I think will be pretty awesome. I've also been conjuring up some ideas for tic ship week! I already have one short Wolfet fanfic down!**


	6. Chapter 6

She was shaking.

Horribly, horribly, shaking.

Cinder hated how she was shaking, because then people would assume she was some frightened and tainted thing to taunt with. When in reality, she was shaking in frustration. Frustration that her witch of a stepmom allowed this stranger that donned a veil to come and collect her like she was some type of an investment.

In a sense, to them, she was. She could feel it. Felt the way those thaumaturges hauled her out of that apartment in New Bejing. Felt the way they kept her in the back like a caged animal on the way to Luna. Felt the way they touched her - almost as if they were afraid of her. Or maybe it was the fact that she was somehow "dirty" in their eyes. She had heard the rumors about Luna, the asylum, and Levana herself. How they hated cyborgs and uncleanness, and Cinder was the embodiment of that with her grease stains and dirt gloves and cyborg parts.

Or maybe they treated all of their patients like that. Like dirt. After all, this was an asylum.

Why she was here? Cinder did not know. Only the fact that her stepmom and stepsister treated her like a pesky nuisance of a rat that would never go away, and the fact that Peony was found last with Cinder when she died was the last stroke. They deliberately assumed she had killed her. _Her_ , a measly burden of a mechanic. _Peony_ , the only person in that family who treated her like a human being.

Then there was the fact that Levana reached out to Adri less than a day after Peony's death. _Ironically_ , she wanted Linh Cinder. _I want her to be apart of my asylum_. Cinder couldn't help but shiver in disgust at the thought. It sounded like she would become some kind of lab rat in her hands.

She didn't feel that just yet, only a slave and a prisoner.

The big, dreary black gates of the asylum opened her up and immediately enveloped her in. The minute she stepped foot in it, she'd been forced to be hauled in a wheelchair. _As if I'm some type of danger_ Cinder thought. She was only a sixteen year old earthen. Did they fear earthen people here in Luna like earthen people feared lunars?

They strapped her down from head to toe, her hands tied to either side of the wheelchair along with her legs. Immediately, they brought her to a big room that was already opened. She could see a large group of people cheering and chanting, their backs to her. In front of the crowd was an older lady, a bulky man, and a curvy girl. Her hair almost blended in with her red hoodie she had on.

The lady that initially led her in from the docs, Sybil Mira, went inside the room first, demanding attention.

"Come and welcome our newest patient."

The guards strolled her in, and it made Cinder feel more weak. More helpless. More angry.

Why was she being treated like an experiment of some sort? Why did she have to be _here_ out of all places?

She watched one by one as each and every person averted their gazes away from the fiasco and on her. Their lingering eyes felt like needles to her skin and gave Cinder the chills.

They all looked haunted in their own way. Dull, nonchalant as if having new patients was normal, and even intangible.

Finally, one of them dared to say something. It was the old lady that stood beside the redhead and the beast-looking man. "And who might she be?" Cinder detected from her monitor that her heavy accent was french.

Sybil tilted her head up high. "This is Linh Cinder. Before she departs late in the afternoon, you all will introduce yourselves and help her adjust to our way of living."

 _Adjust to our way of living._

 _Before she departs late in the afternoon._

There were so many things wrong and questionable about that statement to Cinder.

Cinder was scared to enter and "adjust" to "their way of living." Nothing would come out remotely good in asylums, especially ones like these. The walls were dreary, the floors didn't look all the way clean, and the building itself spoke volumes. It was almost like a vintage haunted house of some sort, except this was real and not fake.

 _Guess I was wrong about the uncleanness part._

And what did she mean about her departing late in the afternoon? To where? For what?

Cinder felt a slight surge of panic rise up in her chest.

 _Increase of heartbeat detected._

Cinder glared at her retina display.

 _If only you can detect what's the deal with this asylum._


End file.
